Iron
by the-fabulous-Jai
Summary: Slytherin Trio, Hufflepuff Neville, trans Harry, nice Petunia Dursley, Dumbledore in a cursed limbo. Vernon Dursley is dead, as he should be. Unfortunately, so is Petunia.
1. Chapter 1

Harry enters the clothing store to be measured for the first new clothes he's ever had. The store is empty.

.

He follows the instructions written in his letter to get to the Platform, ignoring the loud family.

.

Ron Weasley is the sixth of seven to attend Hogwarts, one of hundreds in his family line, and nothing special. He is good at chess. He is _nice enough_, he's sure his brothers must say, _but the most boring of us all_.

He is stifled under the family roof, and picks the first empty compartment he sees. He ignores the command to look for black-haired green-eyed girls.

.

Hermione sits with the boy who fidgets, like her. He's lost his toad, he stammers out, and she suggests they look for it starting at the back of the train.

.

Harry picks a compartment near the front. The first one to join him is a boy with a shock of white-blond hair and grey eyes.

When two boys and a girl come in search of a toad, the blond boy suggests a Summoning Charm.

"I'm going to be in Slytherin. They're cunning, and clever, and great." He performs the charm with ease and a toad shoots through the air.

Harry would very much like to be cunning, and clever, and great.

.

Harry considers giving his birth name when they ask, but doesn't. The blond boy asks if he's Muggle-born.

"Er, no. My mum was, though, and I grew up with her family."

"Ah. Parents gone in the war?"

Harry nods.

Neville speaks up. "Mine too." And they all look at him. "My parents, they- they were to-tortured into insanity. I l-live with my grandmother." And hell if that isn't the most he's spoken the whole train ride.

.

"Longbottom?" Malfoy-Draco-Malfoy asks. At Neville's sound of affirmation, he winces. "I... I'm related to the woman who did that to your family."

And he turns to look at them all. "I want you all to know that I don't condone it at all, and my family's political choice in the war won't affect the choices I make. It's been over for a decade, and I'm going to be your _friend_."

.

As they cross the Lake, Harry asks Hermione if she knows how the dormitories work. Whether boys room separately from girls, and that sort of thing.

She tilts her head. "Well, there are common rooms and separate bedrooms for each House. Four or five per room during first and second year, and after that students can ask for roommate changes as they like. I think there are single rooms available for disabled students, but they aren't used often. And boys room with boys and girls room with girls."

.

Hermione argues with the hat, who chooses to tell her that she won't be the only Muggle-born in Slytherin.

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Neville begs for Hufflepuff. The hat is torn between that and Gryffindor; it's a full three minutes before the decision is made.

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The hat barely brushes Draco's hair before shouting what he already knew to be true.

.

Harry had worried, very briefly, that the hat would call out the wrong name. It would call Harriet Potter and everyone would _know_. Aunt Petunia had told him, told him that they considered him a war hero and she wasn't actually sure how advanced things were socially there- and he's been worried.

"Harry Evans!"

The hall is silent, bored.

_"Well,"_ the hat says. _"There's no need to be worried, or ashamed, I can tell you that right now. There are others. Look up Salazaar Slytherin, when you get the chance."_

_"Can I be in Slytherin?"_ He thinks at it.

_"Ah, yes. It would have been a toss-up between that and Gryffindor, just barely tipped into the snakes, if you hadn't said that. You're going to be Great."_

The hat calls out Slytherin, and Harry walks off with a grin on his face.

.

_"Ah, yes. You've got a keen mind. An eye for detail, hmm, Chessmaster?"_

_"I'm just the spare Weasley boy. I'm nothing. Just put me in Gryffindor-"_

_"So afraid to stand out. But you won't be, in a few years. SLYTHERIN!"_

Ron Weasley walks to the snake pit, shaking.

.

"Who's that?"

"Not sure who you're pointing at, but there's-" Cassius Warrington points at the turbaned man, "Professor Quirrel. He's our Defense teacher this year. Taught Muggle Studies last year, I didn't take it but I heard it was awful. That next to him is Professor Snape. He's our Head of House, you'll meet him after. There's Professor Sinistra, she teaches Astronomy..." Harry listens to the Head Boy talk, then returns to his meal.

.

Professor Snape hands out the school rules in Muggle paper packets, reads them the list of Slytherin Rules.

.

"Um, Professor?"

Severus looks at the child speaking to him, wishing he'd stop dawdling and get over whatever he had to ask. After Harriet Potter could not be found on the magically self-updating lists and it was found Dumbledore had told no one of where the girl was, the summer had been spent frantically coming up with explanations to the world when they all inevitably noticed their girl hero was, presumably, dead. Hagrid had been disconsolate, of course.

"Get on with it, child. You have less than half an hour before rooms are assigned."

"So, er, I was wondering..."

"What?" Severus knows it's unfair for him to glare the way he's doing so right now, and he tries to tone it down, but it's not successful in the least.

"Imtransgenderwheredoigowhatbathroomdoiuse."

"...Pardon?"

The first-year clears his throat. "I'm transgender, and I wasn't sure which dorms I go to or what toilet I use or anything."

"Male to female, female to male, or non-binary?"

The child blinks. "Female to male. I, I'm a boy." He seems to steel himself. "I've always been a boy, and that won't change even if I have to room with the girls. It's not going to change. I'm a boy."

Severus sighs, now in the position of having to calm down a child in the midst of mild anxiety: "You'll room with the boys. If you've been 'out,' as they say, for more than about three years, the magic in the girls' dormitory will not permit you to enter anyway." He eyes the boy, notes facial features uncomfortably like that of his childhood bully. A question forms in his mind and makes his way to his lips, unwillingly. "May I ask your pronouns, and your name?"

"He. And I'm Harry. Uh, Harry Evans."

He nods a dismissal.

.

He is left reeling.


	2. Chapter 2

Harry doesn't remember much about the day Vernon died, back in the old house at Privet drive.

(He'd been cooking for them, hoping for scraps- this was back in the time before Aunt Petunia loved him, back when he wore Dudley's cast-offs tied at the waist to form dresses. Vernon had just come home, bottle in hand, and said something to Petunia. Harry had not been looking, had only heard a brief exchange of words and a crack and when he turned around she was on the floor.

"Well, what are you looking at, girl?" Vernon had growled. It mightn't have been those exact words, Harry's not sure. He only remembers turning back to the food on the stove, catching a brief glimpse of Dudley cowering in the hall, and then a burst of pain on his back; then, something _happened_, something _flew_ from his hands and there was fire.)

.

**HOME FIRE ON PRIVET DRIVE!**

**by Lia Thomas**

**Vernon Dursley, of the esteemed Grunnings Corporation, perished in a terrible cooking fire this Wednesday. For the full article, turn to page 6. For obituaries, turn to page 16.**

.

Their new home was smaller, and Petunia worked all day to feed him and Dudley. They both wore used clothes now, from a local store, until a few years later when Harry stopped wearing dresses.

.

At school, they were both the poor kids, the half-orphans. He in particular was an outcast, with his girl's name and determined androgyny.

.

When Harry was fiv, he turned a teacher's wig blue. He turned it back.

.

That afternoon, Petunia sat the both of them down for a talk. She told them about a world full of magic and danger, about two sisters who grew apart.

Two siblings. One who had magic, the other who did not. She could not help but see herself and Lily there, in her own sons- for despite their differences in appearance, despite the orphanage fiasco when they were three and the remnants of Vernon's hate locked into Dudley's psyche, they were her sons and they loved her and each other. She wouldn't let them grow apart like she and Lily had, she couldn't.

She told them, a little bit, about the war. Explained that, to some, Harry was a hero.

"I'm not sure how advanced things are there, socially," she said. "I know gay men are at least somewhat accepted- your father had two friends who were definitely together- but their ideas about you center on a little girl. They call you the Girl Who Lived there." At Harry's obvious dismay, she hugged him tight. "If they don't understand, we'll make them. If anyone can change the world, it's you."

Then she turned to Dudley.

"Harry is the same person he's always been, you just know more about him now."

.

Harry remembers Petunia's death well; she'd been sick for only a few months when the doctors told her she wasn't responding to treatments.

In desperation, he tried to pull his magic on command, to heal her. It did not work.

.

Dudley did not blame him. Harry almost wished he did, both of them crying out for their mother in the darkness of the orphanage.

.

(They ran away from the orphanage, once. It did not go well.)


	3. Chapter 3

Harry hated the orphanage, and it hated him.

The building didn't hate him, just the people in it- there were mutters of _devil child_, growls of _freak_, and, worst of all, cries of _girl_. At eight years old he was showing what Aunt Tuney had called accidental magic, and couldn't control it at all. Some things, like vanishing the glass on a window, were almost funny before he got punished. Other things, like making the bars on his door vanish so he could sneak into the kitchen and get extra food, were merely his magic reacting to his immediate needs. And he still never seemed to not be hungry.

Dudley tried to protect him, at first, but then he got targeted too. At least they were still close in private, making up stories and telling them in the tiny room they shared.

Then Dudley got sick.

...

Severus paces his room. Back and forth, back and forth. He paces, because Lily's child is here at Hogwarts. The fireplace roars, with the Gryffindor flame he'd have expected a Potter to live for.

...

Albus Dumbledore slipped into a coma in 1987 after amputating his own hand. He had found a ring containing some sort of encapsulated curse, doused it in diluted basilisk venom, rinsed it in the water of a lake (polluting a Muggle village in the process,) and slipped it on a finger.

Back at Hogwarts, no one noticed changes made to the attendance roster, certainly not a note that one child marked as Muggle-raised was not to be given orientation or given their Hogwarts letter by a teacher. Similarly, no one noticed when the name changed.

Headmistress McGonagall did not realize until 1990 that Harriet Potter's name was missing.

...

He got his Hogwarts letter on July 31st, and wrote back on a piece of notebook paper that he'd need help finding Diagon Alley. The woman they sent was odd, but she convinced the nuns to let him go off in the fall. He wondered what Professor Sinistra was like as a teacher.

Briefly, he asked about dormitories, but she seemed to misunderstand and started talking at him about something called the "Sorting" that would apparently decide where he went.

"Afraid I can't tell you how it's done. But maybe you'll get into Slytherin, like me! I loved it there. I'm a relatively recent graduate, just started teaching last year. Did Hogwarts in six years, Astronomy mastery in two, and now this."

He liked her. She talked a lot, and seemed to pay entirely too much attention to little things like the way he disliked pats on the back, but he liked her.

He liked Diagon Alley even better.

Before they walked into Gringotts, Professor Sinistra pulled him over and started rambling again: "Now, I'd like to formally apologize on the behalf of Hogwarts for not sending me or another teacher with your letter. Normally that's what we do automatically for Muggle-raised students. Anyway, you should probably know that I'm a bit well versed in Divination- that's, like, telling the future, or scrying- and scried you before coming here, and what I'm trying to say is you likely have multiple vaults in the bank under your birth name. If you tell it to the goblins, they can change the name they have on file for you and you can access your own money."

"I...have money?"

...

Gringotts was overwhelming but fascinating, and the pile of gold in the first three vaults the goblins took him to was bloody beautiful. He changed his name on their files to Harry Potter; it didn't quite have the same ring to it as the name he used in day-to-day life, but for legal purposes it would do nicely.

...

Severus paces some more. After perhaps half an hour of this, he picks up a jar of greenish dust, takes a pinch, and throws it into the fireplace. Calls out the name before he can stop himself. "Lupin household."


	4. Chapter 4

Remus Lupin, a half-blood werewolf with a useless Defense mastery and an even more useless Muggle degree in Literature, sits by the fireplace in his apartment. Living in Muggle London has its drawbacks, namely the fact that there's no actual fireplace and he had to enchant one himself, but the rent is cheap and no one notices when he leaves every month. He sits by the false fireplace with its barely-working Floo connection- not that he uses it much- and reads a book, thoughts on the page and nothing else.

Wonder of wonders, the Floo comes on.

Who could be calling at this time? More importantly, who would be calling at all? Remus is a hermit, he knows, and his few connections in the wizarding world barely bother with him. He casts a quick identifier charm- it's coming from Hogwarts. Hmm.

"Hello?" He asks.

The face that flickers is not a welcome one.

...

Aurora Sinistra sips her tea. She wonders if Snape knows yet.

...

"Lupin. I trust you're able to talk?"

"Snape, yes, of course. How are things at Hogwarts?"

Severus tries his best not to grind his teeth. He scripted this out, he knows what to say. He can do this. "During our time as students, I may have expressed certain sentiments that caused your friends and yourself to believe me rather close-minded. However, Slytherin House, being what it is, tends to attract the marginalized and mistreated, and I would never so malign my own students."

"O...kay. Is everything all right?"

"Have you forgotten about Harriet Potter so quickly?"

Lupin, it amuses Severus to see, nearly falls off the chair. "Wait, was she there? McGonagall told me her name wasn't on the list! She said they had no idea where she was, or where her guardians were-"

"The Hogwarts List automatically updates itself when a student begins going by a different name."

Silence. Severus watches the gears turn as Lupin puzzles it out. "Wait," he says. "What are you implying?"

...

The prefects showed Harry to what would be his room. He'd be with the red-haired boy on the train, Draco from the train, and a dark-haired boy who looked like he was about to fall over.

"So," said the Draco. "Name's Malfoy. Draco Malfoy. Heir to the Noble House of Malfoy. Pureblood, of course."

With a look of resignation, the tired one spoke up next. "Theodore Nott. Of the Ancient and Noble House of Nott. Pureblood. You may call me Theo."

"Uh. I'm Ron, Ronald Weasley. You all know us."

All eyes turned to Harry, who was internally panicking. He didn't know what any of this was supposed to mean!

At his silence, Theo spoke again. "Well, I do hope you're not a Mudblood, or worse-"

"Harry. Half-blood."

"House?"

"Uh, Slytherin? Isn't that why we're here?" Deflecting had gotten him out of a fair few fights before.

"Nope. You'll have to do better than that," said Theo. "It's okay. The hat said Evans, right?"

"Er, yeah. Harry Evans."

"I don't know that name." Malfoy was frowning.

He sighed. Might as well. "House Potter."


End file.
